


Rules Can Be Bent

by ofshadowsandstars



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Clint was almost an Olympian, Deaf Clint Barton, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Natasha is in charge, Tattooed Characters, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Sam Wilson, all is well, and she's scary, i'm just playing this by ear, they're all nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6142993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofshadowsandstars/pseuds/ofshadowsandstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were rules for a reason. To keep people safe, to get things done right, to make a living situation work. Sure, every once in a while, a rule will be annoying, but you work around it. Bucky follows the rules - hell, he helped write some of them. It was better for him if things were organized specifically. Teaching was less stressful, and his roommate was less of the lioness she could be. Two rules that had been emphasized more than any other: don't take all the hot water, and don't fall for a lecturer. It'd been going great for two years!<br/>And then life fucked it over in a single day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Basic Rules

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of came to me randomly. As the daughter of an academic, I know way too much about how universities run and how academics tick. I just wanted to write an AU where I could apply my own personal knowledge. Hope you enjoy!

Roommate Conditions (They wrote these up together. It seemed like a fair arrangement, with the exception of rule 5, which Bucky thought was overkill. But it didn't seem like that big of a deal, but he let it stay)

  1. Pay the rent on time
  2. Do your share - dishes, groceries, laundry, housecleaning, etc.
  3. Give warning of guests - **_OF ANY KIND_**
  4. First come, first served policy for TV; exceptions can be made with a strong enough case
  5. Hot water theft comes with penalty of _death_
  6. Recurring presence of romantic partner (or otherwise) must be pre-approved
  7. Maintain tidiness in communal areas
  8. Open door means open, closed means closed, but knock anyway
  9. If you want a pet, plan on either moving out very soon or nowhere in the foreseeable future
  10. Inform as to when you are going out and/or cannot be disturbed save for extreme emergencies
  11. If you hog the booze, you pay for the next run. All of it.
  12. Don't even _think_ about avoiding the roommate
  13. Refer to _Professorial Guidelines_



 

Professorial Guidelines (These were mostly things Elena had learned in her time teaching. From what Bucky had seen in his student days, he had to agree.)

    1. Avoid blowing up about students on campus, no matter how bad it is
    2. Be friends with people outside your department; it's better for your sanity
    3. You don't have to like someone, but be polite/civil (in reference to students and staff/faculty)
    4. Don't be a softie. Believe it or not, students learn better from hardass teachers who don't let them get away with things they shouldn't
    5. Help students that ask for _help_ , not all the answers
    6. Know resources available to you! Always be on the lookout for more!!
    7. Have booze nearby when grading - you'll probably need it at some point
    8. When romantically pursuing colleagues/coworkers, tread lightly (if you're dumb enough to try at all)
    9. ~~Don't sleep with the lecturer~~ **Updated: do not become romantically ** _or_** physically involved with a lecturer. **EVER.****  You can be friends. Nothing more!



 

_All terms were agreed upon by J.B. Barnes and E. Dashkanov on May 26, 2014. The upholding of said terms has been strictly enforced, with the exceptions of the Jet, 'Kaboom', and Hamburg Incidents, as well as on the occasions of several other similar Incidents which the aforementioned do not wish to discuss in any settings that could even accidentally be public. In short, what happened in those Incidents ****stays in those Incidents._


	2. First Day: Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings are crap. It's a known fact.

For two years, Bucky had followed every one of Elena's rules to the letter. Well, their rules. They'd come up with the roommate agreement together. The work guidelines had been mostly survival tips Elena had compiled over the years (okay, it was all hers), and so far they had worked great. He was a well-liked, well respected professor. He had a new class this semester he was super excited to teach, and a decidedly un-hectic schedule. Yep, it was all going well. Bucky was excited for the new semester.

Just not for getting out of bed. 

Like every first day out of a break, Elena had to bang on Bucky’s door as she passed his room to get to the bathroom to shower, just to make sure he was awake. At first, the banging had scared him, made him tense up. But now, it was the same old rude awakening he had gotten in the good old days. The really shitty good old days.

The night before, Bucky, idiot that he was, had agreed to go out for end of summer drinks with Clint and Sam. Elena had warned him not to, but he hadn’t listened. When a Russian woman with more vodka in her body than water tells you that drinking is a bad idea, it’s probably best to listen. But Bucky was an idiot, and so he stayed up until almost two in the morning, drunk off his ass. There was sure to be some photographic or video evidence of the three of them being dumbasses, and it would probably go around after their collective headaches went away.

But the headache was still there, and Bucky was still a little drunk. Drunk enough that, without thinking, he rolled out of bed, shuffled to his bathroom (why Ena let him have the en suite, he still didn’t know), undressed, and got in the shower. And proceeded to turn to water to his preferred temperature: borderline scalding. Bucky didn’t take particularly long showers in the slightest, but in this case, it was long and hot enough to matter.

Now, not to stereotype Russians, but Elena was one of the most terrifying people Bucky knew. She could most likely kill him with her pinky finger and not bat an eye. She was very blunt and honest, and never, ever treaded lightly around a subject, particularly an important one. In this case, however, she decided to wait. Bucky had gotten into the shower just before she did, and had thoughtlessly taken all of her hot water. She had been left with high pressured lukewarm water. And boy, did it piss her off.

But she waited. She waited until Bucky had dried off, shaved, gotten dressed, and only kind of trudged into the kitchen to confront him. Or, in this case, ‘confronting’ was glaring at him ferociously while he tried to get to the fridge.

“What did I-oh. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, I didn’t mean to!” Elena didn’t do anything but raise a skeptical eyebrow as he apologized profusely. “Ena, I swear, I wasn’t even thinking! You were right, I shouldn’t have gone for drinks with Clint and Sam. Never doing it again, I swear on my right arm, just please,  _ please _ don’t kill me on the first day of class.” He was all but groveling on his knees. 

She sighed. “Well, since this was a first-time offence, I’ll let you off with a slap on the wrist, I suppose.” Bucky deflated, relieved. “But it’s going to be a slap on the wrist in the form of either my vodka for the next two months, or part of my share in the grading of exams.” Bucky winced. On one hand, buying booze every two weeks for a couple months wasn’t bad. But Ena got her vodka special and directly from the source. Not having her connections, Bucky would have to buy it for a fuckton of money from a store. And not just BevMo. No, this was the most pretentious liquor store you’d find outside of France. And god, did Bucky hate it.

On the other hand, this was the semester that Bucky and Elena were co-teaching a class on Cold War espionage. He was excited for the class, but not for the grading. Knowing his roommate, she would probably make him grade her critical thinking questions. More often than not, critical thinking was downright painful to grade. But grading painful questions was better than paying excessive amounts of money for liquor that would’ve otherwise been essentially free. 

“Grading,” He said decisively. “I’ll take the grading.”

“Very well, then.” Elena grabbed her laptop bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m meeting Natalia for a late breakfast.” It was 8 am. Ena was generally up by six. “Your coffee has been brewed, and before you go into a state of mass hysteria, your keys are in the bowl by the front door. Your car keys  _ and _ school keys.” She checked her phone’s calendar to see if there was anything else. “Oh, and we’re meeting Peggy for lunch at the cafe. An old friend of hers got a job lecturing in Art History, and she thought you two would get along. Other than that, I will see you at ten-fifteen for class.”

Bucky mock-saluted. “Yes ma’am, professor Dashkanov sir!” She rolled her eyes at him, then shouldered past him and left the apartment altogether.

For once, Bucky didn’t feel like coffee. He poured himself a cup, and added his standard splash of half-and-half and single packet of sweetener, but couldn’t bring himself to take more than a few sips at a time. Setting the mug down on the counter, Bucky walked into his and Elena’s shared office. Upon first glance, Elena’s desk usually looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. But, when you take a closer look, it’s obvious that hers is a system of organized chaos. Every pile has its purpose, every post-it an important message. Her filing, however, was immaculate. Outside of drawers, everything was chaos. Inside, it looked too good to be real. 

Bucky was a bit more organized, he liked to think. Papers for each of his classes had a specific drawer in his filing cabinet, he had a system for getting work done, and he kept reminders posted all over the place. And not just in the office. Quite literally all over the place. In his clothes drawers, on the bathroom mirror, even on the fucking milk carton. Just wherever he knew he would spot them. Elena had even started slipping him sticky-note messages when she didn’t feel like talking to him, and it worked just fine. But, between the two of them, they needed to start buying industrial-sized packs of the damn things.

There was a lot to be grateful for int the modern world, and one of those things was that Bucky had the foresight to put together everything he’d need for class the night before. Just to be sure, though, he double-checked to make sure he had all his papers in his bag. Yep, all there. Bucky’s laptop was done charging, so it got but in his ‘tech bag’ along with his spare phone charger, ereader, and noise-cancelling headphones. Satisfied that he was done, Bucky scanned his desk to make sure that he was ready to go, that he hadn’t forgotten anything.

And then realized he wasn’t wearing shoes.

And that, despite having showered, he was still wearing pajamas.

Sighing heavily and cursing the heavens, Bucky trudged out to the kitchen, grabbing his coffee mug and putting his things by the door (his keys were right where Elena had said they’d be, bless her). From there, sipping his coffee, Bucky trudged into his room, where he picked out his outfit for the day. Not feeling like dressing overly professionally, Bucky just grabbed a pair of black jeans (not the tight ones; those got him in trouble) and a dark blue button up. He messed with his hair a bit longer than he’d like to admit before just leaving it down and slipping a hair tie around his wrist.

From there, Bucky was able to settle back into his routine. He finished his coffee, brushed his teeth for a second time, put the mug in the dishwasher, made sure he had his wallet, and left the apartment, locking the door securely behind him. As he waited for the elevator to arrive, the neighbor’s cat came up to say hello, and received more than adequate scratches to the head, chin, and belly. The cat was polite enough to not rub against Bucky’s legs and shed on his nice black pants. If only more animals were like that. As he left the building, Bucky waved to the mailman as he entered, started walking faster towards his car when he saw the old lady from down the hall notice him, and seriously considered buckling in his laptop. That last part was new. The old lady and the laptop thing. It wasn’t that she was mean or creepy, she just liked to talk a lot and was always offering to cut Bucky’s hair. Odd, but not creepy. Her son, on the other hand…well, that was a story for another time.

As for the laptop matter, Bucky just sometimes had the urge to take unnecessary precautions. His bags were safe in the backseat, just as they always were. Shaking off the thought, Bucky plugged his phone into the aux cord and scrolled through his playlists. Feeling like something classic and familiar, he settled on Billy Joel. Hard to go wrong with him.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Bucky’s hands tapped along with the beat on the steering wheel.

_ What’s the matter with the car I’m driving/can’t you tell that it’s out of style? _

Bucky’s car was an old Jeep, but he loved it and didn’t give a shit what anyone thought.

_ Hot funk, cool punk, even if it’s old junk/it’s still rock and roll to me. _

Billy Joel had been the first American rock star to perform in the Soviet Union, so even Elena, who had seemingly no taste in music outside of Classical/Romantic period music, appreciated his music. Except for the times that Bucky played Captain Jack just to piss her off. On those occasions, she tended to boycott Billy Joel for weeks at a time. Or at least until he admitted that it wasn’t that great of a song. It wasn’t Bucky’s favorite song in the least, but he was generally too stubborn to let Ena win.

Realizing he hadn’t eaten anything before leaving home, Bucky ran into a Starbucks that happened to be right on the street he was driving on. Generally, Bucky just got coffee from home or work. In his college days, he’d practically run on just Starbucks, but spending time overseas and living with Elena had made him lose his taste for it. Which was probably for the best. 

Like the child he was, Bucky was extremely impatient in the line, as he knew exactly what he wanted, but he managed not to completely look like a toddler on the outside. Once it was finally his turn, Bucky ordered an egg and bacon breakfast sandwich, two slices of banana bread (one was for Sharon down in Computer Sciences, who he still hadn’t properly thanked for saving his iPhone), and a large iced tea for Sam. The barista tried to correct him when he said “large”, but the glare he gave her shut her up before she could even say “venti”. Generally, he felt bad about being mean to people just doing their jobs, but he just wasn’t in the mood.

The whole thing took seven minutes, but it felt like ages to Bucky. After he got the tea, Bucky practically sprinted back to his car. Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Bucky started the car and was instantly comforted by the voice of Billy Joel.

_ Like all the locals here I've had to sell my home _

_ Too proud to leave I've worked my fingers to the bone _

_ So I could own my Downeaster Alexa _

_ And I go where the ocean is deep _

_ There are giants out there in the canyons _

_ And a good captain can't fall asleep _

_ I've got bills to pay and children who need clothes _

_ I know there's fish out there but where God only knows _

_ They say these waters aren't what they used to be _

_ But I've got people back on land who count on me _

_ So if you see my Downeaster Alexa _

_ And if you work with the rod and the reel _

_ Tell my wife I am trawling Atlantis _

_ And I still have my hands on the wheel _

Bucky sang along to the song shamelessly. “The Downeaster ‘Alexa’” was in his top ten favorite songs. He knew all the words, and he would sing along if he damn well pleased.

__

\---

__

A drive that generally took twenty minutes tops ended up being almost thirty thanks to, 1) Bucky’s Starbucks visit and, 2) the sheer amount of people on campus. The first two weeks were the worst. Students were trying to figure out where their classes were, and freshmen were exploring the campus. Even among faculty, parking was a beast. But, like any good sniper, Bucky knew where the best hiding spots were. In his third week of teaching, Bucky found a hidden little parking lot right between his office and the building where most of his classes were. Only a few other people had ever really used it, since it was a weird location and there were only three faculty spots in the lot. 

At this time in the morning, none of the other faculty that used the lot would be there yet. Of that, Bucky was certain. Which was why his jaw nearly came unhinged when he pulled into the lot.  _ There was an unfamiliar car. _

A pickup truck, to be more specific. A dark blue pickup truck that Bucky had never seen before in his life. There were a couple bumper stickers on the back, he noticed as he pulled up next to the truck. The only one he could really see was a simple black rectangle that said NO BULLIES ALLOWED in big white block letters. Bucky figured it was a new faculty member, whether a professor or lecturer. Someone had probably told them about the secret lot. Bucky didn’t mind, so long as people didn’t invade his lot. He’d been first, dammit.

Bucky speed walked over to the sciences building, aware of the steadily cooling banana bread in his hand. Luckily, Sharon was in her office, typing away at something or another. Bucky gently rapped on the door frame, causing her to jump slightly, round glasses slipping down her nose.

“James,” she greeted, pushing her glasses back into place. “What can I do for you?”

Bucky held up the Starbucks bakery bag. “I don’t feel like I properly thanked you for saving my phone, and I remembered how Peggy said you loved banana nut bread ‘cause you’re allergic to chocolate, so I, uh, got you some. It’s just Starbucks, but-” At the word “banana”, Sharon shot out of her desk chair and snatched both bags out of his hands. In a blur of motion, she tore open the first bag, grabbed a chunk of bread, and stuffed it in her mouth.

“Starbucks is acceptable.” She said around a mouthful of bread. “But I’m going to need both of these as payment.” Satisfied with herself, Sharon sauntered back behind her desk and plopped back into her chair with a contented sound. It was only then that she noticed the face Bucky was making. “What?” Bucky didn't say anything. He just kept gaping at her. “I was in such a rush this morning that I forgot to eat, okay? I was going to walk to the student union for their crap bagels after I finished these emails, but you've saved me from having to suffer through them on my first day back.”

“Oh, okay.” Bucky chuckled. “I've just never seen you move that fast.”

“Hunger does strange things to a person.”

“That it does. Hey, do you know if Sam's in yet?” He lifted the iced tea to show her. “Got him this.”

Sharon shrugged, swallowing another mouthful of bread. “Psych’s on the third floor, and he comes in through the back. I only run into him when there's ice cream in the second floor break room.”

“Alright. Well, thanks anyway. I'll see you around, Sharon. And thanks again for my phone.”

“No problem. And thank  _ you _ for breakfast.”

Laughing, Bucky waved and took his leave of her. He walked down the hall as fast as he could without looking weird. Something about the large, open spaces of the science building freaked him out. He figured it was the time he'd spent as a sniper. Being out in the open was still a big no-no.

Because it was the first day of the semester and the iced tea was cold as balls, Bucky took the elevator. It was a nice elevator; didn't groan, didn't jerk, didn't beep obnoxiously loud. It was a smooth, quick, quiet ride. 

From the elevator, Bucky hurried down to the end of the hall, counting the office doors as he went by. Not that needed to; Sam's was the very last one on the left, but he did anyway.

As expected, Sam's door was open, and he was sitting at his desk. On his phone. There was a 50-50 chance that he was either having a conversation with Riley entirely in emojis or playing Angry Birds. Going by the way his brow was furrowed, it was probably Angry Birds.

Bucky unceremoniously dropped the tea onto Sam's desk. The other man jumped, phone clattering into the desk. Yep, Angry Birds.

“Merry Christmas,” Bucky deadpanned.

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I thought you were off Starbucks.”

“I am. But I forgot to eat before I left home, so I stopped and got a breakfast sandwich. Figured I'd get you a giant cup of your white girl shit in the meantime.”

“I resent that,” Sam said. He took a huge sip anyway. “And you don't need to lie to me. I know you didn't forget to eat; Ena just didn't remind you to feed yourself.”

“Is there a difference?”

“I guess not. Does she ever get tired of being your mom?”

“I'm older than she is. And I think she really likes bossing me around. It all works out.”

“You sure you guys aren’t dating?”

“I’m five hundred percent sure she’s still a lesbian, so yes.”

“If she wasn’t, would you?”

“Dude, we’ve had this conversation before. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t even consider living with me.”

“Whatever you say.” Sam took another long sip before choking slightly and pressing a hand to his forehead. “Shit! Brain freeze, brain freeze!”

Bucky cackled with laughter. “How the hell do you get a brain freeze from Starbucks iced tea?”

Sam shot him a glare, still rubbing his temples. “I don’t know about you, but my head is still sensitive after last night.”

“Ah. Yeah, whatever was left of my hangover was scared away when I realized I’d stolen Ena’s hot water.”

The other man’s eyes widened in something between shock and fear. “Seriously? I’m surprised you still have all your limbs attached.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at his friend. He tapped the metal shoulder of his left arm. “This comes off, you know.”

Sam facepalmed beautifully. “You know what I mean, Barnes. You have your remaining limbs attached, as well as your robocop prosthetic.”

“I know. I just love watching you get frustrated.”

“You and the rest of the freaking world.” He muttered.

Now Bucky was confused. “What?”

“Oh, you’re gonna like this story. So, you know how I go for my morning run around the park and neighborhood?”

“At ass o’clock in the morning like the freak you are?”

“Yes, that one. And because I run at, as you say, ass o’clock in the morning, it’s a pretty solitary thing. Only this morning, there’s another guy running. Never seen him before, but I swear he’s part cheetah or something. Lapped me three times.”

“Damn.” Bucky knew Sam’s route, and it wasn’t exactly short.

“That’s not even the worst of it. The first time he lapped me, he told me he was coming by saying “on your left”.”

“What’s so weird about that?”

“I’m not done. The first time, it was just a heads-up. The second time, I swear I saw him smirk a little. And the third? He was a smug old bastard, having fun getting a rise out of me.”

“Your tried to run ahead, didn’t you?” Sam was a great guy, but even he could suffer from a bruised ego.

“Yep. And my lungs are still on fire.”

“You get to talk to the guy?”

“Nah. By the time I finished, he was just driving off. If I ever see him again, I’ll point him out to you. Hey, have you heard anything from Clint? I tried calling him like six times and he wouldn’t pick up. Natasha’s phone was off, too.”

“I don’t know about Clint, but Ena and Nat went out for back-to-school breakfast. After last night, Clint’s either sleeping in until noon and enjoying that he doesn’t have class until tomorrow, or he’s out with Kate and forgot his phone. She doesn’t start school until next week.”

“Huh. It could easily be either. Lucky fucker, allowed to skip out on responsibilities.”

“I think parenting counts as a responsibility.”

“He enjoys it too much for it to count.”

Bucky was laughing in agreement when his phone buzzed twice. He pulled it out and checked to see what it was. Two texts, from two different people.

**Elena:** _ Class in one hour. Don’t be late. _

It was nine fifteen already. What happened to time?

**Natasha:** _ I know you’re on campus. Come meet me in my office.  _

“Well, I gotta go.”

“Ena yanking your chain already?”

“No, actually. Nat needs to see me about something.”

“Ah, summons from the analyst. Have fun.”

“We’ll see. She didn’t add a smiley, so this doesn’t bode well.”

“Good luck. I’ll see you later, man.”

“Later, Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! I read and respond to all comments.


	3. First Day: Bad News and Morning Classes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets some news he really didn't need to hear, trips over his feet like a dumbass, and then has to go teach. Fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's back! Hope you enjoy.

Nat’s office was better than pretty much any faculty office. It was big, didn’t share a wall with anyone, and had a great view of the quad. The inside was immaculate, of course. Natasha’s desk was positioned so that she always faced the door, the books on her bookshelf were organized in a way that could be only described as perfect, though closer inspection would show that there was a variety of classic fairy tales and children’s books mixed in with volumes of educational text. The walls were decorated only with Natasha’s diplomas and a color drawing of the Kremlin so detailed it looked like a photograph.

Bucky, of course, knew that there were two small picture frames on her desk: one of her wedding, and one of her, Clint, and gap-toothed five-year-old Kate, standing in front of General Sherman in Sequoia National Park. But that was because he tended to work in Natasha’s office when he didn’t feel like suffocating in his closet of an office. He couldn’t anymore, though. Not with the big new office Nat had gotten for him. Nope, no more office-crashing.

Normally, Bucky could just swagger in and plop down in one of Nat’s cushy chairs, but, much to his dismay, they were all occupied. Two men dressed identically in black suits, and a third dressed like he was simultaneously rich and bohemian. Which he was, seeing as he was Tony Stark. It had been a while since Bucky had scene Tony, as he frequented the parts of the university dedicated to lab sciences much more than he did history and the social sciences. The billionaire (who had provided the school with substantial donations on more than one occasion), was lounged in Bucky’s favorite seat, a big black armchair that was great for napping and settling in with a good book - well, if you asked Kate, who was practically glued to it every time she got to come to campus.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite cyborg.” Tony greeted, waving at Bucky lazily as he entered the office.

“Stark,” That was all he was getting out of Bucky for the moment. “Natasha, you wanted to see me?”

Natasha held up a finger in the universal signal for ‘wait’. She typed a few more things onto the computer, then turned to address the identically dressed men sitting opposite her. “Look, gentlemen, this really isn’t my department, okay? I only  _ act _ like I’m in charge of everything. I understand what you’re here to achieve is important, but you need to go further up the chain of command, alright? I take care of history, language, and psychology, none of which is concerning your proposal. Honestly, and I never suggest this to anyone, you should consider talking to the overgrown child over there.” Natasha gestured to Tony. He stuck out his tongue at her. “He knows better than anyone how to get the powers that be wrapped around your little finger.”

The man sitting on the left turned to face Tony. “Would you have a moment to speak, mister Stark?”

Tony sighed audibly, slouching further into the chair. “Alright, fine. Let’s get out of here.” Tony got out of his seat as slowly as possible before leaving the office with the two men trailing behind him. He spared half a second to pat Bucky on the flesh shoulder as he passed.

Bucky waited until the other men were gone to sit down opposite Natasha. “What was that about?”

Natasha shrugged. “Reps of some large corporation. They want to make some contribution to the psych program, and some genius told them to come talk to me.”

“Ah,” it wasn’t the first time that had happened, unfortunately. “So, why did you want to see me?” Bucky tensed slightly as a thought struck him. “Ena’s not firing me because of the water, right? I know I’m not tenured yet, but I don’t  _ think _ she could have me fired-”

Natasha held up a hand to quiet him. “Even Elena isn’t scary or cruel enough to get that done. No, that’s not what I called you here for.” She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper, which she handed to him.

“Your trip’s been rejected.” She explained as he scanned the words on the page. “Internal affairs thought the risk was too high. Your last two trips have been hits, so they’re willing to let you do it elsewhere. Somewhere safer.”

“I’ve been planning this for months!”

“It’s out of my control, James. Brazil just isn’t considered safe right now, particularly not in Rio.”

Bucky rubbed his temple, sighing heavily. “This is not a good morning. How do they possibly expect me to change my trip short-notice? It was scheduled for December, and I had to have the trip filled by the end of September, which is cutting it way fucking closer than they usually do.”

“I know.”

“I’ve had people signed up since May!”

“I know.”

“Where the hell am I going to take the trip? Central America? Mexico?”

“I think anywhere in the Southern part of the Western hemisphere is a no.”

Bucky groaned, wishing he could disappear into the chair. “I could do France, maybe. French revolution, storming of the Bastille, all that. German occupation, maybe.”

“See? You have lots of options.”

“Nat, I appreciate you trying to be positive, but it’s the last thing I need right now. My class last semester put a huge amount of focus into the defeat of colonial rule in Mexico and the other Americas. I’d have to schedule the trip for after Commencement,  _ and _ completely change my lesson plan for next semester. But, hypothetically, it could be done.”

“I’ll give you time to think on it.”

“Either way, I’ve got to email students saying the trip is off. And give them back their money.”

“Speaking of email, how are you liking your new office?”

That question caught Bucky by surprise. “It’s not bad, actually. Right near the break room, directly across the hall from Ena, and decently close to my classes. The building’s nice, actually. Everyone said Sokovia Hall looks like it’s been dropped from the sky, but it’s in good shape.”

“It’s the sore thumb of campus, some say. It was just designed to stand out from everything else back in the day.”

“Didn’t Clint used to have an office in Sokovia?”

Natasha nodded. “He did. And he hated it.”

“Why?”

“It was in a dark corner of the ground floor.”

“Ah, of course. Speaking of which, where is your dumber half?”

Natasha’s eyes glared at him, but her mouth smiled. “He’s at home, on dad duty. Which, going by the hangover you and Sam gave him, is probably just drinking coffee until his blood turns to caffeine while Kate watches cartoons and eventually falls asleep on the dog.”

“I’m confused. Does Kate or Clint fall asleep on Lucky?”

Natasha sighed. “Yes.”

Bucky could see that she needed a subject change. “So, how was breakfast with Ena?”

“Good, actually. We went to that diner Clint likes to go to for pie. Food was surprisingly tasty.”

“Generic diner doesn’t sound like either of you.”

“It’s not,” she agreed, “but it was better than facing the snobs at Shelley’s first thing in the morning.”

“8 a.m. is like, fifth thing in the morning for Ena.”

“You know what I mean. But they had some of the best croissants I’ve had outside of France.”

“You know how snobbish that makes  _ you  _ sound?”

Nat shrugged. “I’ve travelled. Sue me.”

“Why did you two even have start-of-the-year breakfast? I thought you liked to make crêpes with the baby bird.” Despite not being his biological daughter, Kate had picked up Clint’s ridiculously good eyesight and was starting to show interest in archery. Because Clint’s nickname during his career as a professional archer had been “Hawkeye”, Bucky had, of course, felt the need to call Kate “baby bird”.

“She’s getting bigger, which means she’s started to cling to her sleeping time for dear life. Plus, Clint ate all the Nutella, and some milk vanished. I’m going to assume that it went with the Nutella, but it might have been Kate trying to fatten up Liho. I don’t know what goes on with those two anymore.” To most people, it would have seemed like Natasha was regretting many significant life choices, but Bucky knew her better than that. She was always up for a challenge, and dealing with crazy people she would walk through fire for was simultaneously a challenge and effortless for her.

“Well, they certainly keep life interesting.”

“That they do.”

“Will that be all? I’ve got those emails to get to.” Bucky pointed to the door, getting up slowly.

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.” Natasha waved him away, laughing.

 

Bucky wasn’t a clumsy person. Actually, he tended to be the opposite. So, when he trips over his own feet, it’s a pretty big deal. Although, in all fairness, with the morning he’d been having, it was bound to happen eventually.

The second floor of Sokovia hall was all offices, with the exception of the break room and conference room. The only complaint Bucky had about his office was how far he had to walk to get to it. He didn’t care that it made him sound like a wuss. He was allowed to be lazy, dammit! So, of course, Bucky glared at the lecturer offices, which were right at the front of the hall, right after you get off the stairs.

Of course, the downside to lecturer offices is that they are a shared space, and that the wall facing the hall is pure glass, eliminating any real sense of privacy. In that regard, Bucky was willing to walk a little extra. And then he saw the guy.

Okay, not just a random guy. A fucking  _ gorgeous  _ guy. Tall, muscular, blonde, and with eyelashes long enough for Bucky to see from ten feet away. He was dressed a little like a grandpa, but he somehow made it look sexy.

Which is when Bucky tripped over his feet. And then promptly hurried down the hall, face burning in shame. Yeah, it was definitely not his morning. At least he remembered his office key. Bucky was really, really grateful for his office. And his comfy office chair. And the ever-reassuring picture of his ma he kept on his desk. Of course, his priority was just slamming his head down onto the desk and staying there forever.

“I told you to listen to me.” He didn’t even bother to put his head back up. He wasn’t in the mood for Elena’s I-told-you-so speech, so he just grumbled unintelligibly. “Natalia told me about your trip. I already sent out the message to your students telling them it’s been cancelled.”

That got Bucky to raise his head. “How’d you get the list? Forget that; how did you get their email addresses?”

“I know your password.”

“Of course you do.” Bucky’s head fell back onto the desk with a thud. Maybe Sam was right; Elena was starting to be his mom.

“I feel like there’s something troubling you that I don’t know about.”

“Are you psychic?” Bucky turned his head to the side so he could at least be understood.

“No, but I think I would know you pretty well after living with you for two years.”

Bucky sighed, raising his head. “You’re gonna think I’m an idiot.”

“I already do.”

“Well, in that case, what do I have to lose?” He asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Elena just quirked an eyebrow at him. “Okay, fine. You know the lecturer offices at the end of the hall?”

“I’m familiar with them.” 

“Yeah, well, there was a hot one in there.”

She gave him a warning look. “James…”

“Don’t gang up on me just yet, okay? I didn’t talk to him or anything, I just took one look at him and tripped over my own clumsy feet.”

Elena chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment. “Was he blonde?”

“...yes.”

“Tall? Taller than you?”

“Pretty sure, yeah. Why?”

“Because that fits the description of Peggy’s friend we’re having lunch with.”

“Goddammit.” This time, instead of dropping his head onto the desk, Bucky slumped back into his chair. “Remind me, how do they know each other?”

“He’s an ex, I believe, but they still get along.”

“Well, he can’t be that great if he’s an ex, can he?” Bucky was starting to grasp at straws. No way he was going to be able to make it through a whole lunch with a guy that made trip over his own feet just from looking at him. Even if Peggy did break up with him, she had dated him for a reason. “And I thought you said he was in art history, right? Why would he be up here?”

“Art  _ history _ . What do we teach?”

“History,” Bucky groaned childishly, trying to sink into his chair.

“Exactly. Now stop moping, we’ve got a class to get to.”

Bucky checked the clock. 9:45. “Class doesn’t start for another half hour.”

“It’s the first day of class. There are probably students already waiting outside.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Before he stood up, Bucky opened a drawer and pulled out a pack of gum. He offered Elena a piece, which she took with a nod of thanks, and popped another piece into his mouth. Whoever decided to mix bubblegum and mint was a goddamn genius, as far as Bucky was concerned.

 

The class had a surprisingly good turnout, but that was partially due to the fact that it was the first day. Technically, they started at 10:15, but Bucky was feeling nice and Elena was chatting with a student she’d had the previous semester, so he waited an extra couple minutes. Once Elena joined him at the front of the class, he cleared his throat, and the buzz of conversation in the room ceased.

“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the first day back. Or first day, to those of you that are freshmen.” Bucky was much better at being nice to people than Elena, so he got to do the introductions. “I’m Professor Barnes, and that’s about all I’ll let you call me. If it’s just me, I’m fine with ‘professor’, but ‘mister’ makes me feel old, so please don’t.” That earned a couple of chuckles around the room. 

“And as you’ve probably guessed, I am Doctor Dashkanov, but Professor suits me just as well.” Elena had toned down her accent a bit, so that it had hints of something almost British. Her accent tended to get gradually heavier as the semester went on. It’s what she had done when Bucky had first moved in, and he could understand what she was saying at literally any time because of it. “This class, in case you’re not sure you are in the correct room, is called Cold War Espionage.” As she began to speak, Bucky handed a stack of syllabi to students and let them pass the papers around. “While that is the focus of the class, we will also be discussing events of both World Wars, particularly focusing on the aftermath of WWII, and the events leading up to the start of the Cold War. There will be at least one article assigned each class, the link to which will be posted online. You are expected to read it, take note of key topics and any points of interest that may arise, and in class there will be a discussion, followed by a review of the material and a more in-depth lesson.

“These articles are the heart of this course, and if you neglect reading them repeatedly, you will be promptly dropped. As it says on the syllabus, participation in this class is worth 20% of your grade. Now, participation includes taking part in discussions, as well as your success in various projects and class activities that will occur throughout the semester. If any of you are in Professor Barnes’ History of Warfare class or Doctor Hill’s Forensics course, some activities you do in those classes can count for credit here and vice versa, so long as you consult with all professors involved.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to talk. “There will be a minumum of one quiz a month, just to make sure you understand the material, and to see how your critical thinking skills are. If you have any questions, do not be afraid to ask. Both mine and Professor Dashkanov’s office hours, emails, and school numbers are on the syllabus. Email works fine if you have a clarification or small question, but I find it better to meet face-to-face. Our offices are right across the hall from each other. Sokovia hall, third floor, right towards the end. If one of us is out and the other is in, feel free to come in to ask us questions. If there’s someone already there, just wait patiently. 

“And now, moving back to quizzes, they will count for 20% of your grade. The midterm and final combined will be 40% of your grade. The remaining twenty percent will be based on attendance, homework other than the reading, and any extra credit opportunities you take.”

“Our late policy is this: only if it’s an emergency and you can prove that it is. If you broke your leg and can’t leave the house for a few days, you can still read the articles and email in your thoughts. The same goes for if you have to leave town for a family wedding, funeral, et cetera. If there is homework other than reading, we can provide you with an alternate assignment. In the case that any of you have children that need to be cared for if they are ill, just provide us with a confirmation from the doctor, and the same goes for you if you can. Any questions?”

A girl towards the front of the class raised her hand. Elena nodded to her. “What are the classroom policies on food and electronics?”

Elena gave him a ‘you take this one’ look. “If you’re going to have a drink, make sure it's sealed. Water bottles, coffee cups, and basically anything with a lid is fine. No soda cans, though. As far as food goes, gum is allowed as long as you chew respectfully and dispose of it properly. There are four trash cans in this room; we will not punish you for getting up for ten seconds to dispose of gum. I get that this is early for some of you, so granola bars are allowed as long as you’re careful with crumbs. In my classes, I’ll allow chips on the less greasy side, with the same crumb rule in mind, but Professor Dashkanov has banned them for this class. Other than that, we prefer not to have food. As far as electronics, you can take notes on your laptop or use it to pull up the articles, but no cell phones. If you’re expecting an important call, just tell us before class and put your phone on vibrate. Anything else?” There was a beat of silence. “Before you ask a question, make sure it’s not on the syllabus.” A few more chuckles.

A man in the back raised his hand. “Might I ask, what inspired the creation of this class?”

“That’s actually a good question. Bucky leaned against the whiteboard slightly. “As a few of you may know, I’m a special forces Army veteran. I focus on all sorts of different kinds of warfare throughout history, but my real passion is for WWII. Professor Dashkanov hails from Russia, and has a vast knowledge on the history of the country. We were thinking about what we could teach that we had in common, and it ended up like this. Not much to it, honestly.”

“What did you do in the Army, exactly?” It was the same girl who had asked a question earlier.

“Technically, that’s classified.” A few pairs of eyes around the room went wide. “But I’ll tell you one thing: I wasn’t baking cookies.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops mysterious ending! Sorry this chapter wasn't super interesting, but the next one is sure to be!


End file.
